Sunday, February 10, 2008

Owl the foster kitten is back

Brian and I went to Petsmart to meet the woman who had adopted Owl so we could pick him up. I also had to get some items (kitten food for Ptera and Anya being a priority) and get the spay/neuter clinic binder from Sue, as I am doing the clinic on Valentine's Day morning--with someone who hasn't been trained yet, so I have to really know my stuff! Fortunately, Sharon was a great teacher when we worked together last month at the clinic, and I am confident that it can be done correctly and efficiently. The other experienced volunteer had to cancel, so I get this opportunity to teach someone. I love teaching!

So, we wait for Owl to arrive, and some absolutely gorgeous cats and kittens come in from their foster homes, including little Chloe, who is Calvin and Clarence's sister (they all look alike--little black kittens with some white coming out of their ears). There were also some adult cats that were already there whom I noticed were polydactyl! Several kittens showed up with polydactyly too, so I squee'd and melted over them. My little Ptera is polydactyl, which is how she got her name. Brian heard me say she was polydactyl, and, well, you can guess the rest. This is what happens when men are involved with naming cats. He wanted to call her fluffy sister "Brontosaurus", and I made him settle for Charlotte Bronte-saurus; Anya I'd wanted to name after the Buffy character, so I justified it as Anyankalosaurus (The character's full first name is Anyanka). Boys. They're ridiculous. At least we haven't named any of them after Transformers. Yet.

So Owl showed up, and was all hiss growl in the carrier. I unzipped it and pulled him out, and he nestled right into my arms and was a little trembly (it was kind of a madhouse at Petsmart today), but was obviously happy to be with me, and looked around curiously. I had Robin give me some ear mite treatment for him, because I looked in his little ears, and they're in bad shape, and we took him home. Amazingly, he seems to have doubled in size; he was small for his age, but has caught up, and is almost as big as Ptera now (and she's a big girl, eats lots, grows fast).

When I put him down, he ran upstairs, straight into the bedroom, and jumped on my bed, lying in his favorite spot there. He knew exactly where he was going, and he was absolutely relieved to be "home". He did jump down for a while, but eventually I hunted him down and took him to bed with me. I had a headache, so he sprawled out next to me, pressing his back against my chest, and we stayed that way for a while. I had a phone call from my aunt, and he was undisturbed for the entire 40 minutes we talked. She eventually took mercy on me and my vicious headache, and Owl and I napped together for a couple of hours before he eventually left me to go do cat things.

His adopters said that he would do nothing but crouch under a recliner and growl and hiss at them. The kitten that lay next to me today was very relaxed, happy, and completely without fear. He was also completely exhausted from his ordeal. He let me fondle his little paws, back and front, seeming to actually enjoy it. We have some cats here who hate it when their paws are touched (and Teya would get really mad at me), and a couple who enjoy it (Aakhu and Ptera). Owl didn't seem to care what I did to him at that point, as long as he could be safe and loved in a place that he felt comfortable.

He is a very special little boy, and I am going to be very picky about who adopts him. I had a lady call me earlier today with questions about him, and I asked her if she'd heard about his personality quirks, as I called them. I was very honest about his behavior, and that he needed to be worked with patiently and slowly. I don't want him getting treated like a yoyo--this experience was really hard on him, and I don't want to see him get adopted and returned repeatedly; it will break his brain.

So now he's running around, playing with the girls, and being cute and happy. I'm not sure what his future holds at this point (the foster coordinator asked if we wanted to keep him), but I will do everything in my power to make sure he has a good life.

3 comments:

Oh, poor little Owl! These folks sound like they couldn't have had much in the way of patience. One of my rescue cats sat underneath my armchair for three solid weeks after I adopted him, venturing out only to eat and use the litter tray. He's currently lying on my desk beside me as I type, purring his head off. (And he always lets me play with his feet).

Who am I?

I blog about my life, my health, my pets, and some of my opinions. I am married to a wonderful person, and I am devoted to caring for and learning about animals. My education is in biology, chemistry, and fisheries.
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